


You're on My Heart Just Like a Tattoo

by gotatheory



Series: OQ Fix It Week [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Multi, OQ Fix It Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 18:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12513568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotatheory/pseuds/gotatheory
Summary: Maleficent asks Robin about his tattoo, and he realizes that while he has something that ties him to Regina, he has nothing to represent him and Mal. He seeks to correct that.





	You're on My Heart Just Like a Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 4 of OQ Fix It Week, I used my wild card to finish this fluffy little bit of DOQ set in my Flicker Beat verse.

It all starts with an innocent question from Maleficent one night when they’re all together, cuddling in bed. Usually it’s Regina tracing his tattoo, her fingers seemingly drawn to it when they’re close, and he has to admit he loves the way her nails draw over the black crest and follow the lines of the lion inked into his skin. But tonight, it’s Maleficent, her back pressed to his chest where he’s cuddled against her, his right arm wrapped around her. Her hand rests over the back of his own, and then her long fingers start tracing warm patterns over his skin. He turns his hand over, catches her fingers with his own, and then she’s dragging them up, ghosting them over the lines on his palm until she reaches his wrist. 

For a few minutes, she simply traces the ink. “Is there a story behind this?” She taps the crest almost absently. “You’ve never said.”

He opens his eyes, hears Regina shift slightly as she too rouses from the not-quite-sleeping state she was in. “You’ve never asked,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and nuzzling into her neck. “It’s not that fascinating of a story, truthfully.”

“I want to hear it, if you don’t mind sharing it with me.” Her voice is quiet, almost timid, and Robin squeezes his arm around her.

“Of course not. Why ever would I mind?” he murmurs, rising up a bit to kiss her more properly on the cheek, hoping it reassures her. 

“Because I know this tattoo is important to you and Regina.” She’s not looking at him or at Regina, he wagers, especially from the way Regina’s eyes catch his own, slightly pained. 

It’s always been a bit of a sore spot, the thing the three of them don’t talk too much about. Him and Regina being soulmates. In the beginning, when they were still navigating this relationship and figuring out their feelings, it had worried Mal. The idea that she was a third wheel, something to add to their relationship without fully being a part of it. They were past that now, more or less, but both he and Regina knew it cropped up from time to time, like any of their ghosts.

He still worries that they'll realize they don't need him, a mere mortal, that he couldn't possibly understand them and their pasts. That Regina will feel trapped by the tattoo that Mal is caressing.

So he adjusts against Mal, moves so that she can roll on her back and he can see her face. Bumping his nose against hers, he murmurs, “You’re important to me and Regina, too,” with a small, loving smile on his lips.

Regina echoes the sentiment in the way she turns onto her side, sliding her hand across to rest on Mal’s over his arm. “Tell her about it,” she says, squeezing their fingers together.

She’s already heard the story, had asked about it that afternoon in her office after she had told him her story about pixies and fairy dust. It brings back fond memories, Robin’s smile impossibly soft at the memory, despite how everything went wrong after. But he shakes it off to focus on Maleficent and the way she’s looking at him with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. He wants to rid her of that first one, wants her to know he wants to share everything with her, as much as he does with Regina.

So he settles into a comfortable position, propping himself up on his elbow and turning his arm over so he can see the crest permanently marked onto his skin. “This will surprise you to learn, but I didn’t grow up bathing in rivers and bartering with pine cones,” he says impishly, and Mal chuckles as Regina scoffs. “I was born Robert of Locksley, and I was the son of the Earl of Huntingdon.”

Maleficent looks up at him with surprise, eyebrows raised as she drawls, “Nobility? Really?”

Robin hums an affirmative, nodding. “Though I suppose it hardly counts, as I left all that behind ages ago,” he says with a tired sigh. “But I was raised with the intention of following in my father’s footsteps, becoming a proper lord of the manor and all that.”

“So is this your family crest, then?” Her nail delicately draws over the thin skin of his wrist, and it makes him shiver pleasantly.

Robin nods again, biting his lip as he thinks back on his family and the life he left behind. “My mother was a lovely, _loving_ woman, and though she had been raised in the same social circles as my father, she was what he called a bit soft-hearted. She cared about the people; my father cared about the estate, the earldom, and couldn’t understand the importance of the peasantry. According to my father, I was too much like my mother, and so he sent me to be a soldier, hoping learning something about commanding a troop in the Ogre Wars would inspire me to be more like him. But I didn’t want to use my status to get a leg up and be a commander, delegating from the sidelines. I chose to start at the bottom as a footsoldier.”

“You were in the Wars?” Maleficent murmurs, looping her fingers around his wrist and squeezing. Ogres didn’t mess much with her territory, but she knew about the horrors of the Wars, the kingdoms that weren’t so lucky, especially the villages and towns the nobles considered less important to protect.

“Yes,” he replies, voice distant, though he adjusts his hand so he can tangle their fingers together. Regina’s hand shifts to join them, and Robin lets his eyes linger on their hands, enjoying the warm weight. “It changed me, but not in the way my father hoped. It made me more resentful of him, of the institutions he represented. After my mother died, it only got worse. She had gotten ill and suffered, and my father spent very little time with her while she languished in bed. He gave her a funeral befitting a woman of her status, something she would have hated, and I... I couldn’t even bring myself to go. So I ran away instead.”

Maleficent’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Ran away?” she echoes, blinking at him. “Where did you go?”

“Where else, but Nottingham and Sherwood Forest?” he says, grinning at her and getting a little scoffing eye roll in return. “I tried to stay around Huntingdon, but it was too dangerous. Everyone was looking for me, of course. So I went somewhere I could be more inconspicuous, and eventually learned how to be a thief. Which brings me to this.”

He holds up his wrist, the whole reason he’s talking about any of this in the first place. “It’s my father’s crest, and I got it after I left. When I first got to Nottingham, I was... Well. Let’s say I wasn’t the man I am today. For all my soft-hearted ideals my father abhorred, I didn’t exactly embody that once I got to Nottingham. I did awful things at first, because I was angry with my father and thought his pigheadedness excused my actions. I grew out of it eventually, with some help from Little John, once I met him. I hated what I let myself become, all because I was upset with my father. So I decided to give myself a permanent reminder of what I once was, and what I had decided to be.”

Maleficent’s fingers encircle his wrist once more, turning it so she can look more fully at the tattoo. “And it would become the only symbol Regina had to identify her soulmate,” she muses, rubbing her thumb over it. “Have you thought of getting any other tattoos?”

“Sometimes. After Marian died, I thought about getting one in memory of her,” he admits quietly. “But it seemed too painful to come up with anything right after she was gone, and by the time the pain had passed, it seemed too late. Besides that, I’ve considered getting one for Roland from time to time, but I haven’t settled on anything.”

She hums a little absently, before bringing his wrist to her lips and pressing a kiss to the lion, as Regina does from time to time. The warm brush of her lips sends a pleasant tingle up his arm, goosebumps blooming on his skin. “Thank you for telling me,” she murmurs, placing another gentle kiss to his skin. “For sharing a part of yourself.”

Robin catches her chin gently in his hand, tilting her head so that he could kiss her softly. Pressing his forehead to hers, he says, “I want to share all parts of myself with you, Maleficent. I love you.”

She smiles at him, the kind that lights her entire face up as if a fire has ignited in her eyes, that makes her look absolutely radiant and breathtaking. “I love you, too, and I want the same,” she whispers, pecking his mouth in a quick kiss.

Next to her, Regina cuddles closer, bestowing her own kisses on them both. “Love you,” she murmurs, and once more their hands tangle together in a jumble of fingers. “And as much as I love you two learning more about each other, maybe we could sleep now?”

Robin and Mal chuckle, pressing final kisses to lips and brows and squeezing their hands, a light, reassuring grip before settling into sleep.

*

Robin thinks about it again the next day. Not constantly, but he might catch a glimpse of his tattoo and he remembers Maleficent’s face as she studied it, and the timidity in her voice as she spoke about what it meant for him and Regina. His heart hurts for her at the thought that she might still worry that she’s expendable in this relationship, that he and Regina might love her any less. So he thinks of ways that they could change that, little and big things they could do, and though he comes up with several dates and presents they could get her, he comes back to one thing in particular.

They’re doing a bit of arts and crafts today, Henry helping Roland with some school project that seems to involve constructing a birdhouse out of popsicle sticks. Mal and Regina are working on dinner in the kitchen, and he is “overseeing” the children, making sure they don’t get paint on their clothes (which he doesn’t understand, because Regina made sure they’re wearing clothes old enough that it wouldn’t matter, but she still insisted they shouldn’t get too messy). Really, he’s doodling, designs for the birdhouse at first, but then they don’t need him anymore and he’s mindlessly scribbling, thinking about ways to make Mal feel appreciated.

He’s not much of an artist, can make identifiable shapes and sketch out something that can at least amuse Roland, which is the only reason he ever developed such a talent. He doesn’t even realize what he’s drawn, until Henry’s at his shoulder.

“What’s that?” the boy asks, startling Robin a bit, and he looks at his little sketch properly for the first time.

“A dragon,” he says, blinking, and yes, that’s exactly what it is. It’s a little crudely drawn, but it’s a dragon. He was thinking about Maleficent, after all, and what she said, and Robin thinks maybe his subconscious might have figured it out for him.

*

He cleans up the sketch a bit, makes it a bit neater and more identifiable, adds some touches. When it’s to his liking, he braves his nerves and shows it to his loves. Their reaction, perhaps understandably, is mostly confused.

“It’s… a dragon?” Regina says slowly, her voice tipping up into a question.

“Holding a quiver of arrows,” Mal finishes, blinking at it. She studies it, brows knitted in concentration. “Did… Roland draw it?”

“What? No, I did,” he says, frowning a bit and looking down at the paper. He doesn’t think it looks _that_ bad, though it might be a little rough around the edges.

“Why are you showing this to us, Robin?” Regina asks, cutting straight to the chase. “Have you decided to take up art?”

He chuckles at the thought, shaking his head. “No, love.” He takes the picture from her, examines it closer. He still doesn’t think it looks like one of Roland’s. “I was absently doodling earlier with the boys, and drew this. I had been thinking about what we talked about last night, about my lion tattoo.”

Neither of them flinch at the mention of his tattoo, but Regina’s eyes dart to look at Mal just a hint too quickly, Mal’s own eyes flickering from hers to his. It’s the only reaction they give, besides an interested, “Oh?”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums with a nod. “Remember you asked if I wanted to get another tattoo?” Off Mal’s confirmation, he rustles the paper to draw their attention back to it. “I want to get this tattooed on my other wrist.”

Maleficent studies him for a long moment, Regina seemingly stunned into silence. Mal tilts her head, eyes almost narrowed as she regards him. “You want… a dragon tattoo?”

“Yes. I thought,” he pauses, bites his lip in uncertainty, “I wanted to have something special for the two of us. Regina and I have this,” he raises his right wrist, indicating the tattoo there. “We could have this one on my other wrist.”

The silence stretches for agonizing seconds, and Robin begins to feel foolish over the whole idea, realizing Mal probably thinks it’s such a trite gesture. He should have come up with something better for her, to really show her how he cares, how much she means to him. He’s going to apologize, already opening his mouth when Mal turns her eyes back to him, looking up from the drawing. He’s shocked to see her blue eyes are clouded by tears.

“I love you,” she murmurs, voice tight with emotion, and then she’s pulling him into a hug, sniffling into his neck. When she draws back, some of those tears have spilled over despite her best efforts, and Robin can’t resist trying to comfort her. His hands instinctively cup her face, brushing away the tear tracks.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he says with a tiny frown, but she chuckles, leans forward to peck his lips.

“No, I love it,” she tells him, kisses him once more. “I love you,” she says again, voice more under control now. She looks at the drawing, tongue between her teeth as she considers it. “But could I make a suggestion?”

Robin nods, watching as her brow furrows in concentration. She brings a glowing fingertip to the paper, tapping it, and the ink shifts on the page. Mal’s magic cleans the drawing further, defines the dragon and the arrows a bit more, but then it adds a small, but distinguishable detail: a crown hovering just over the dragon’s head.

“How about,” she starts, smiling almost nervously as her gaze flicks from the drawing to Robin and Regina, “something special for all three of us?”

Regina gasps, and Robin smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Maleficent’s head. “It’s perfect,” he murmurs, and, “I’d be honored to wear it on my wrist,” as he wraps an arm around Regina, too, squeezing her hip.

“You know, I’m not much for tattoos, but I think I’d like it, too,” Mal says, regarding it carefully. “Maybe I’ll join you when you get yours…”

“Would you now?” He tilts his head at her, smiling at the thought of the two of them with matching tattoos. He turns to Regina, waggling his eyebrows expectantly at her, smirking when she snorts a derisive little laugh.

“Oh no,” she says, shaking her head, “I am a queen, I don’t do tattoos.”

“You could, though,” Mal argues, reaching toward Regina and slowly dragging her hand down her side, grasping her opposite hip. “You could get it in a place no one else could see but us. Our little secret.”

Regina’s nose scrunches the way it does when she’s thinking something over, debating in her mind, and then Mal delivers the final blow, “It’d be a permanent symbol of our love. Something that connects the three of us.”

He watches as her face softens at the thought, and that’s won her over, he thinks. A tiny smile curves the corners of her lips, her head inclining ever so slightly in a nod. “When you put it like that,” she murmurs, and Maleficent smirks, smugly triumphant.

“Oh, don’t look so smug,” she teases, but she leans in to kiss that smirk from her lips.

“Oh, I’d never,” Mal chuckles, warm and low, in response, capturing her by the back of the head to keep her in the kiss.

Robin can’t help but watch them trade kisses, his eyes occasionally shifting back to the paper in his hand, admiring their tattoo.

He thinks about his lion tattoo, of what it means to him and symbolizes, and then of this one. Of how far he’s come, of the love they share, what Regina and Maleficent mean to him, and the family and life they’ve built together. How this one image captures what his life has become so perfectly.

He’ll have to make an appointment, he thinks. He wants this reminder of how fortunate he is inked into his skin forever, and as soon as possible.


End file.
